Cemetery Weather
by KaleidoscopeOfWords
Summary: He notes the scraggly tips of her nails and confirms that the Capitol can't change some things, no matter how hard they try.  Katniss&Gale oneshots
1. Extravagant Vacancy

**CEMETERY WEATHER**

"_I never knew what I would do  
>If anybody tried to take you away<br>And your beautiful boy won't wait for you  
>Because he's busy with the stars and the fame."<em>

_-_Cemetery Weather_, Isles & Glaciers_

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**Extravagant Vacancy**

She lies with her head in his lap, brown hair tumbling over his legs with the ends spitting gold in the sunlight. The rays dappled across her mud-flecked face, and he thinks she has never looked more beautiful.

His hands travel smoothly up and down her arms; they whisper of things that will not be there tomorrow.

"Katniss?"

"Mm?" The distance in her voice kills him. She is unknown to everyone now, it seems; he has grown sick of watching a pretty face on the television wear extravagant dresses and talk as if the lines have been fed to her. It is beyond the point of jealously; this game has not been her choice.

He is quiet and troubled, and he knows she understands as her little hand slides into his. Her nails have been recently decorated but were now chipping. He notes the scraggly tips and confirms that the Capitol can't change some things, no matter how hard they try.

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**xx I'm really excited, guys. I've always wanted to start a group of oneshots like this! I'm going to try to stick to the storyline, but I won't worry too much if I get a little off course. (: **

**They'll be mostly Katniss & Gale centered. Or, at least, have some relevance to that pairing. **


	2. Crystalline Galaxies

**Crystalline Galaxies**

The night is cold but promising, and he waits below the stars. It is better to meet now, to meet in the dead of night, away from prying eyes and, anyway, he's hunting during the day. That is what he tells himself.

He counts the stars in his head as he waits, hating the silence, the same silence that he is forced into each afternoon. It taunts him. It mocks him. Just the presence of another person is able to chase it away, something that he didn't realize until said person was gone.

"Gale?" Her voice is a whisper and makes her sound soft and dainty and unusual. He accepts it without question, though, as she leans down to kiss him. The kiss numbs him, and he pulls her closer. He thinks she knows; he thinks she knows that she is good for him in all the wrong ways.

As he breaks the kiss and leans back to look at her, he cannot make out her face perfectly. And that is quite fine; the shadows give her a mysterious quality, not quite definite, not quite real. Sure, she looks ethereal and elegant and maybe even exotic with her large light eyes, but he likes when the edges are blended, and he likes how he can squint and not know her at all and _pretend_.

She doesn't know that.

She can never know that in the night, it is not the governor's daughter that Gale sees but instead a girl that is too far away, maybe even too far gone, to touch.

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**xx Be warned – I tend to get into the heartbreak of Gale. (Would ya all kill me if I said I didn't mind the Gale & Madge pairing? Of course not over Katniss & Gale… but still…) I'll challenge myself to a happier piece next time!**


	3. Makebelieve Hero

**Make-believe Hero **

_What on earth is she going to do with _flowers_? _

That is the first thought that registers in his mind as he watches children, teenagers, and adults alike welcome Katniss back with wilting wildflowers, daisies and violets among them. He watches her accept the gifts with as much gratitude as she can muster.

He can tell that she's worn to the core, aching to be alone, because she hasn't been alone since she left. She may have spent nights in the arena without company, but there was always that feeling, always the chance someone was watching – waiting to strike.

And then there was Peeta after that.

Gale swallows down jealously and whatever else he was feeling and waits for the chance to steal her away. He kicks his leg back to the bottom of a tree and crosses his arms.

She is able to slip past the last few visitors when the sun begins to kiss the ground. Gingerly, she walks over to him. She doesn't move to hug him or even touch him for that matter.

It's like she's some pet of the Capitol, trained not to trust anymore than she already knew how. It had taken him years to gain her trust. It took them a fraction of that time to beat it out of her.

This time he swallows disgust, nodding to the woods where they begin their long walk. Finally they come to a large tree with a broad base. He sits first, and she follows hesitantly. The silence is worse than when they used to hunt together. Before it was a comfortable silence; now the silence is tainted with the breath of the Capitol and all the horrors that she can't speak of.

"It was awful," she whispers, eyes not meeting his. It takes him a moment to realize she's trembling, her hands twisting together. Suddenly her gaze is locked with his. "I watched people die."

She does not cry. He wishes he could tell her that he knew how she felt. But the truth is he didn't. He didn't know at all.

"It's going to get better," he offers, taking one of her small hands in his. He doesn't like how it's so soft, so smooth without blemishes, but he doesn't say anything. Instead he speaks half-truths.

But if it's half a truth, it's half a lie.

"But it's _not_," she bites back, her eyes flashing with that guarded, unreadable look that seems to tell him that she's seen things he'd never imagine.

She snatches her hand out of his, and they stare at each other for a long moment.

"You think you understand, but you just _don't_."

And then she's gone, whispers in the forest following her. He sits there until it is completely dark, wondering why he didn't see this coming from the very beginning.

**xx I failed with the happiness here. But uh, I'll try on the next one! Maybe a piece about them before she went into the Games…**

**Oh, and thanks for the reviews! They're much appreciated. (:**


	4. Bruised Lifetime

**Bruised Lifetime**

He likes when she is alone with him.

He sits on her bed in her small house; the room they are in is still the same with its washed-out walls and wobbly bedside furniture. The girl who sifts through her closet, brow in a furrow, is not.

While she pulls out a ghastly pale dress with a slightly ruffled collar, he decides that in another life, things could be different. He might actually see her smile, might actually be able to offer her more support. She might not have to go through the pain she is constantly thrown into, from her father to the Games itself.

In defeat, she tosses the dress to the ground. Her eyes find his, and though it does not show, he can tell that she's getting close to tears. He hates the Capitol for making everyone else think they're not good enough. He wishes he could find the words to tell her this, to tell her she's good enough for him, too good actually, and she doesn't deserve this and –

But it won't make a difference. She will wake up tomorrow with the same weight on her shoulders, and he knows he won't do anything about it. So he just opens up his arms, and she crawls onto his lap, seeming much, much smaller than usual, less formidable and more real and maybe just a bit pitiful.

In the future, he'll look back on this moment and realize he was wrong – he could have made a difference.

Maybe, in the end, he would have had her.

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**xx I like how Gale defies the Capitol inwardly. **

**I think it's just hard for me to write happiness when I know they're doomed. **


	5. Pretend Happiness

**Pretend Happiness**

"I don't want to be the mockingjay."

She was frightened more than anything in her life as she whispered those words, so powerful that she couldn't quite recognize their meaning until she said them out loud. Fidgeting, her nerves tingled as she awaited the response of the boy next to her.

"I don't blame you," he admitted finally, and she was even more surprised to hear this coming from the boy who seemed ready to take the Capitol to its knees single-handedly. But when she stole a glance at him, she knew he was telling the truth. He also had another look in his eye, the same look that Haymitch and even Peeta sometimes got when they looked at her. She reacted to that look with eyes like daggers and turned her head.

"No, no, no," he protested, getting up and reaching for her hands. She flinched at this, unaccustomed still to being touched in such a comforting way by someone. Nevertheless, she didn't move her hands away from his calloused ones. For a split second she felt shame to have her dainty hands brushing his, looking how hers once looked. "Hey, Katniss, look at me. Sometimes you don't get to choose how life goes, and it sucks. But think about it like this; you have the potential to make it so others don't have to be forced into a miserable life like us – so people of the Capitol don't get it so good while we suffer and – "

"You know what, though? I didn't sign up to be some savior of Panem!" she shouted at him, pulling back from his touch. Her eyes were accusing, but he refused to back away. "Let somebody else do it, let Peeta, let somebody who _cares._"

"Don't you see?" Gale moved towards her, and this time she didn't back away. "Peeta can't. Nobody else can, nobody else fits the role. It's _you_, defiant and imperfect and relatable. You might not see it, but you were the right person in the right place at the right time. And chance sucks, yeah, but look at this opportunity for everyone else to be finally free –"

"So you're saying its coincidence?" she flashed back, challenge alighting in her eyes. "Well guess what? You don't know anything about what I want. What if I want to try and be happy for once in my life?"

But even as she said it, the ridiculousness of that statement slammed into her full force. Her eyes dropped, and her mouth formed an "o"; she sharply took in a breath.

"But why don't I get to be happy?" she breathed, eyes shining as she stared still at the ground.

"After this is all over, you can be, Katniss," Gale told her, his voice so full of assurance that it could only be a lie. "I'll be here when you come back. And things will be the same but better – for everybody."

"That's easy for you to say…" _You're not the mockingjay._

But she allowed him to put his arm around her, and they sat and watched the wind in the trees and pretended that there was a place for happiness in the future.

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**xx Again with the morbid. Sheesh, you'd think I could do better. (; Maybe some pre-Games scenes and that'll do it. **


	6. Necessary Jealousy

**Necessary Jealously**

She doesn't have to tell him that she's jealous; she knows he sees it in her eyes, and she _tries so, so hard_ not to be jealous, but she is. It's so unfair. He had to sit and suffer through seeing her kiss another guy on a big screen, not even allowed to compete for her affection. It may have been fake but still. (He didn't know.)

And here she is, when he is so painfully, obviously in love with her, and she is _still_ jealous. She tries to reason with herself. (It's because he's the only thing that hasn't really changed. It's because she's known him forever, and she doesn't want him given to someone else to be best friends with.)

He walks around with the governor's daughter, and she seems so perfect for him, beautiful and gentle, and Katniss wonders how that dainty rich girl won over Gale who used to scowl when they passed Her Kind of People every day.

So as she stands patiently and waits for Gale and Madge to finish exchanging words, she tries to ignore it. And when the blonde walks away, she bites her tongue and tries to clear the anger from her body. She smiles.

(And fails.)

And he sees it, and she hates herself for being jealous, because he's shaking his head and whispering, "How could you even begin to think…"

Tears are coming to her eyes, and she's embarrassed she can't control herself. She hears Peeta in the background and it completes this awkwardly fashioned love triangle or square or whatever the hell it is now. She reaches for Gale's hand and pulls him away, into the forest and away from Peeta and Madge.

When she grabs him to kiss him, she realizes she's shaking.

How is she possibly still afraid of losing him?

Or is she afraid that it's herself she's losing, that one day she'll look at Gale and not be jealous at all?

Not being jealous, she decides, would hurt so much more. Because that would mean…

Pressing herself closer to him, she reminds herself that as long as he's there and she's happy, everything is how it's supposed to be.

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**xx Eep! It's Katniss's POV. Surprise, surprise. I always find it hard to write her because I don't know how much emotion is too much or too little… **

**(I hope this makes sense like it did in my mind. It didn't feel right to finish the sentence 'Because that would mean…' It would go along the lines to explain if she wasn't jealous that meant she didn't care Gale was with another girl, and she's afraid that if she doesn't care he's with another girl, it's because she's happy without him/with another guy.)**


	7. Past Innocence

**Past Innocence**

"Katniss, this is Gale. He's going to be staying with us for a little bit today while his mother runs to the marketplace."

Peering from around her mother's legs, a little girl meets the eyes of Gale. She sees a rather short young boy with overgrown, messy dark hair and dark eyes. He looks afraid and malnourished, his eyes appearing darker as an added affect. But the girl doesn't really notice this; being from their district, this is the norm. She watches him assess her, obviously meeting her silvery gray eyes that were lively and curious.

"Come on outside. Me and my sister are playing." And she grabs his hands and leads him out the door without another word.

When she gets to where her sister and her are seated, she notices that Gale is following her at a slower pace. Impatiently she waits for him.

"See here?" she says, pointing to a jumble of sticks, cloth, leaves, and string. "We're making dolls."

At first, the new boy doesn't say anything. He merely sits and watches. Giving up, little Katniss fumbles with the cloth, wrapping it around a stick. She tries fastening the string strategically around the cloth and the two sticks that will be the doll's arms; it falls in a messy heap.

Frustrated, she crosses her arms. "My daddy can do it, but he's off at work, and he's too tired to do stuff sometimes when he gets home. At least that's what my mama says."

He still doesn't say anything, and she looks longingly at her sister's doll, perfect from when her father made it. It originally was hers, but awhile back when Prim was sick, she gave it to her. Ever since, she hadn't wanted to ask for it back. That's when it was her brilliant idea to make them today; after all, her dad made hers – why couldn't she?

"Pway wif me!" Prim cries softly, picking up her doll, perfectly worn with a stick torso and arms, a light blue cloth dress (stained with use), and a leaf face that her dad would have to replace every so often.

"I'm trying, Prim," Katniss says, her hands shaking as she again tries to tie the arms to the torso. Just then two small hands take the sticks from her. She turns to see Gale standing there, intent on moving the string easily in a loop with his hands. Mesmerized, little Katniss watches him easily tie the most practiced knot, securing the arms in place. He then takes the white cloth and with a piece of string, ties it at the hemline to emphasize the waist of the doll and keep the dress in place. He does almost the same with the stem of the leaf, securing it with a thin piece of string. He hands her the doll shyly. She takes it but keeps staring at him.

"My dad," he says quietly. "He teaches me these things. But I'm not supposed to tell." His beautiful brown eyes round out in fear. "You won't tell, will you? He says it's gonna be important someday."

"I won't tell," promises Katniss, holding out her pinky. He takes it, and they swear. "Thanks so much!"

Suddenly, as if she had an idea, she grabs two more sticks and holds them expectantly towards him. He ties them together and then she takes it back, skipping the cloth and taking instead a leaf and tying it with a string. Her hands shake as she does so, and when she finishes, the leaf hangs sideways. But she hands him her finished product anyways.

"You can be a boy," she decides, with a smile. "Play with us?"

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**xx Yay for the clichés of childhood stories and pinky promises. But I had to test the waters here; I've never done one before!**

**Katniss seems so innocent. I wonder if she was reserved as a kid too. I'm just gonna pretend that the traumatic realization that her life kind of sucked wasn't until later. **


	8. Promised Reunion

**Promised Reunion**

"I… I love –"

In between the tears and the put-off goodbye she's been meaning to tell him, it begins to slip out without her discretion. He stops her, and at first it hurts worse than hearing her name called for the Games the second time.

"Don't say it. Don't you dare…" And his voice breaks, and she realizes how unfair she's being.

She knows why she wants to tell him she loves him, even though she doesn't know if it's true. She wants to tell him because she feels awful to leave him again, wants to tell him so he doesn't run off with the ethereal governor's daughter, wants to tell him because she doesn't know what else to say that means as much as _those three words_.

But it's wrong because she doesn't know if she means it, doesn't know if she'll come back, doesn't know how badly it will break his heart.

"When you come back… if you still…" And his words are lost as he hugs Katniss close, biting his tongue to keep from begging her not to leave. The night air is cold yet it wraps around them like an invisible blanket, shielding them from the outside world.

She pulls away and nods solemnly, taking a deep breath and wiping her tears with her hand, leaning forward to kiss him one last time but then stops.

Because, she reminds herself, this is not goodbye.

"I'll see you soon," she tells him, her voice not quite as desperate as before yet not quite convincing either. But it is enough.

He whispers, "Be careful."

And then there was one alone to dance in the moonlight, the weight of the world seeming just a bit easier to carry on her shoulders.

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**xx I wasn't planning on this. The flows kinda messy, but it works.**


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